The twisted tale of Hansel and Grettle
by lonzdevil
Summary: hansel and grettle live a messed up life and find that they are different, that after the shock of their father attacking them and dumping their 'bodies' they find a whole new life... strong language and horror/violence that may disturb people.


The twisted tale of Hansel and Grettle Ok, everyone is familiar with this story, but what if it was re told to show the abuse of the parents, how different the children where and how the witch was a witch? Well let s find out, the twisted tale of Hansel and Grettle.

We always knew we were different. Being twins made us stand out in our little town but it was our platinum blond hair and our empty grey eyes that really made me and my brother freaks. No one wants to be friends with the kids that get bullied, so we kept to our selves. It wasn t always like that though, we use to be dark haired with brown eyes, we had many friends but after the horrors of what our parents did to us, we ran away, we had to live like animals to survive, but we started to notice things, things that wasn t normal and after a while we accepted these changes, we knew we were different. I ll explain from the start, or you won t understand why we did it, why we killed her... why we had to burn her body, don t judge us, just listen...

Clean the fucking kitchen! our mother exclaimed, walking bare foot into the cold kitchen, looking at the small pile of dishes that were our breakfast bowls and cutlery. I walked towards her and began the clean up as Hansel, my twin brother began wiping over the battered sides.

you dirty children! my mother screamed into my ear, deafening me and making my eyes water slightly with pain, I knew it was coming, the beatings, the name calling and then the walk to school in silence. No sooner had I cleaned the dishes had she grabbed my hair and slapped me with all of her force. My mother was not a thin woman, she ate heartily and beat me heartily, her large hands leaving a red mark on my cheek and she dropped me to the floor where my legs were unable to hold me after the shocking impact of her slap. The familiar dizziness rung through my body and I felt like I was going to be sick, that was when she kicked me, her perfectly manicured toes crashing into my ribs winding me, I braced myself for the blow that would probably knock me out, at least then I wouldn t have to explain the bruises.

The second blow didn t come from my mother as I expected, because my father walked in and saw that I must have done a bad deed, why else would I be punished? So he took his belt of and gave one lashing to my back, opening it like a knife through butter, splitting my skin in half. My brother just looked on in horror, he was around 5 11 and nearly as big as father but he doesn t have quite enough muscle mass to defend me or him if there was a confrontation so I understood his pain at not being able to help me. He didn t get beatings any more like me, he was too old for that now but he did have to do chores, work and go to school, whilst fending off blows, only a few ever hit but each blow hurt him in more ways than I could understand. What I didn t tell my brother though was about the little trips me and father took when he took me out to see Nana and granddad, whom Hansel hadn t seen in years, or I for that matter because those 2 day trips were always full of abuse from my father friends, their hands in places they shouldn t be, their manly parts being pushed into my delicate parts, no one caring if I was enjoying or hating it, as long as they were happy.  
But after 8 years of this since I was 7, I was able to fade out, and every time an act happened I lay still and didn t even shed a tear. Not anymore. I think deep down Hansel knows what's going to happen next weekend for another visit of my Grandparents, but he doesn t say a word, he respects that I haven t told him, he is waiting for my first words to tell him, but I can t, I can t tell him my father, our father, has made me fuck men who are up to 60 years old for money or beer. I can t do it.

I stood up and ran back to my barren room, Hansel close behind me.  
Oh Grettle! Are you ok?! Let me fix it for you please, you ll get infected. That bastard didn t even ask why you were being hit! I sat down on my black bed and undressed. My plain white underwear and bra contrasted my bed sheets and Hansel started to clean my wound.  
I hate him... I said, tears falling down my cheeks I know... Why me? I have done nothing wrong! I cried anger welling up inside me Don t worry sis, we re leaving tonight, I have it all planned how? I m stealing father s car and then I m going to drive us as far away from here as I can All through school I kept my head down, my long brown hair covering my face like a shield and I tried not to lean back onto my wound, pretending I had a bad back when a friend asked what was wrong.  
My thoughts fluttering around my skull, what if we get caught? What if he kills us? But the answer came that night after I received another slightly less painful beating when I dropped a cup on the floor and my mother made me pick it up with bare hands then smacked my hands together. Whilst a few smaller shards where still there, embedded into my palm.

After my brother cleaned and bandaged my hands he snook out of the house via back door to fathers truck and put a few bags of our things inside and had already taken the keys when we heard his voice, booming and loud, echoing through the house and out the door to us, Hansel put the key into the ignition and turned, waiting for the engine to rev up, but it kept stalling, over and over again until it started to purr, we could see his mad face, gaunt and furious at us in the back door, he ran towards us, too fast for the slow attempt my brother was making to move the car. It had only just occurred to me that Hansel hardly knew how to drive so I wasn t too surprised when he caught us, I was surprised however to see he had a rifle in his hand.

Father dragged Hansel out first, hit the butt off his head until he was out cold and shot him in the back of the skull, the sound etched into my mind as I scrambled to get out and away, crying for my dear brother, but mother stopped me, pushed my face into the dirt, I saw fathers boots in front of me, the catch of the gun and then nothing...

That was till I woke in the dark, the smell of woods and ferns clogging my nose, my joints frozen from the cold, my mind too slow to process what had happened... am I dead? I thought, but no dead person feels this much pain. Then I remembered Hansel and I cried his name over and over again, met by silence. 


End file.
